


Mind-Theatre

by JazzSea



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: (well the guy is sleeping so he can hardly say yes but), Boys Kissing, Fantasizing, M/M, Slightly dubious consent, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzSea/pseuds/JazzSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ishimaru has been having some curious thoughts concerning his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind-Theatre

Recently, some perplexing thoughts had been plaguing his mind.

"Kyoudai!" Ishimaru calls. "Kyoudai, you are going to be late!" He frowns at the door, then remembers the rooms are soundproofed and that he therefore could yell his throat hoarse with Mondo remaining blissfully unaware of it. He rings the doorbell instead. When _that_ does not produce the desired effect - namely, an open door and Oowada-kun apologizing for his tardiness - Ishimaru gets frustrated. His frown only deepens when after rattling the handle, the door opens with as little as a light push. How many times must he remind his kyoudai to lock his door? Honestly.

"Kyoudai," Ishimaru steps in, carefully closing the door behind himself. "I apologize for the intrusion - although you are partly to blame for failing to lock your door yet _again_ \- but the school festival is only a few days from now and we have yet to finalize the set-up for our class' cat themed café. Our friends are without a doubt already hard at work and it is rude to-"

A light groan interrupts him. He looks up.

Mondo was asleep. Laying on his back on the bed, one arm bent under his head, pillowing it.

Ishimaru frowned. "Kyoudai," Steel-toed military boots quickly made their way over. "This is not an appropriate time for napping! You have responsabilities to attend! Wake up at once, you will rest at a later time!"

Recently, he'd been having some strange thoughts.

"Kyoudai!" He put his hand on Mondo's shoulder, shaking it lightly. "Wake up!" Mondo's head lolled to the side. His lips were parted.

For some reason, Ishimaru thought this was worth noticing.

Objectively speaking, Oowada-kun was an attractive young man. That in itself was not strange and Ishimaru had complimented him multiple times since the beginning of their friendship. His physique was admirable, impressive even, and his light-colored eyes gave him a certain exotic charm, if one was into that aesthetic. His honesty and kind heart made for an attractive personality as well, once one bothered enough to look past the improper speech and unkept clothes. These were objective truths and, from one man to another, Ishimaru felt no shame in admitting them.

"Kyoudai,"

But recently, he had started to notice what he would otherwise consider unimportant things. Things such as how Oowada-kun had the biggest grin he had ever seen. How salient his knuckles were. How he always rolled his large shoulders whenever they took a bath together and Ishimaru helped him scrub his back.

Three days ago, on one such occasion, Ishimaru had imagined himself wrapping his arms around the man sitting in front of him. Pressing his chest to that flawlessly sculpted back. Feeling its warmth. Warm, it was always so warm - in his mind, kyoudai could be nothing but warm.

When he came to his senses, barely a second later, he had been puzzled but had shrugged it off.

Yesterday, they had been in the middle of a conversation - his eyes had darted down towards Mondo's lips for just a moment - when his train of thought was derailed by the sudden vision of himself sitting on Mondo's lap; facing him; pressing the other boy's back even further against the side of the bed they had been leaning on in his room. His fingers tingled when he pictured grazing Oowada-kun's sides. He only came back to - had it been a moment or had it taken longer? - when he was told he was going to give himself chapped lips if he kept licking them like that.

He had had to excuse himself after that, although ultimately he blamed the incident on teenage hormones. Purely a chemical imbalance, natural despite its problematic consequences. It was unfortunate, but after all his kyoudai was whom he spent most of his free time with. Chances were they would be together when... whatever this was happened. He would simply have to control himself until it went away. After all, he did not wish to trouble his best friend; albeit a fabricated version of him that apparently chose to manifest into his mind at the worst possible moments.

"Kyoudai..." While his mind reeled, his eyes wandered. They were now on Oowada-kun's lips. Again.

He noticed they were quite thick. An interesting contrast with the man's sharp jawline. It was pleasant to look at. If he had been required to draw a comparison with his own, he would have said Mondo's lips were much more kissable.

He wanted to kiss them.

His sharp mind came up with a series of appropriate rationalizations: There was nothing shameful about physical proximity between close friends. There was a high probability his irritating hormones would be placated once he filled the gap between the expectations of an overactive imagination and the dull reality of the uneventful, unexciting, perfectly mundane act of kissing another human being. Mondo was asleep and would ( _hopefully_ ) not notice. One quick peck and let's get this over with.

His lips taste of what Ishimaru thinks rum would taste like.

He has, of course, no way of knowing this. He is underage and as such alcohol is strictly forbidden, but when his lips go down on Mondo's - reaching them much sooner than he had anticipated - he feels a sudden rush to the head. It's electricity coursing through his body and butterflies in the pit of his stomach and a tingling sensation on the tip of his fingers like they are desperate to touch _something_ but he cannot tell what.

Ishimaru sighs through his nose and doesn't move. With his eyes closed, he keeps his lips pressed against Mondo's own. He does not feel good doing this while his kyoudai cannot tell him whether the gesture is welcome or not, but every time he feels himself muster the resolve to move away, the images start playing behind his closed eyelids, making his heart race.

In his mind, he can feel Mondo's hand on the back of his neck. Calloused fingers tracing small, slow circles on the base of his scalp; his other hand finding its way to Ishimaru's hips. He can feel its warmth through the fabric of his uniform, he feels its weight on his skin despite his clothes and doesn't understand why it makes him shudder. He sees Mondo's eyes open, his cheeks flush with embarassment and their lips part only for Mondo to stutter the word "moron" before clumsily crashing them together again, and it's a thirst, a hunger, a feral desperation that he has never felt before. Ishimaru balls his hands into fists and lets his mind theatre get the better of him, allowing himself to feel his best friend's lips slide against and interlock with his own; it's wet and clumsy and warm and wonderful and Mondo's hand is on his throat, their hips are pressed together, his own fingers are tangled in the back of Mondo's hair and even if he wanted to stop smiling he wouldn't be able to because he feels like he's floating and he never wants it to stop. When Mondo bites his lower lip the room starts spinning; he tastes whipped cream and rum and Mondo's tongue shyly coaxing his own into action and if this is how being drunk feels like then he has just a sliver of sympathy for those who pursue the activity.

The heat that begins pooling in his lower abdomen brings him back to reality like a punch to the gut. He draws back right on time, the gesture so sudden he fears he might shake the bed and wake Mondo up. Whatever gods happened to be watching over them had however been merciful enough to not allow that to happen.

Hadn't it been for his sudden arousal, he would have slid his tongue between Mondo's parted lips. For real this time. The exhilarating buzz from seconds ago was replaced with crushing guilt, and the unpleasant sensation of having something painfully stuck in his throat. Having these kinds of thoughts on occasion had been one thing, but he never thought, he never _meant_ to act on them, much less taking it this far.

He exited the room at a brisk pace, berating himself silently along the way. He would confess his heinous deed of course, once he wrote a satisfying letter of apology; and he would take the consequences of his actions in stride even if - even _when_ \- they involved his kyoudai's scorn. He would probably get a punch in the jaw for this. It would be well deserved too.

His lips tickled, but the sensation procured none of the joy a first kiss ought to. The persistent pulsing of his temple reminded him why getting drunk was never advisable and highly frowned upon. What made it all the more shameful however, and what made his eyes sting with guilt, was the knowledge that he had had to go and get drunk on Mondo Oowada of all things.


End file.
